Summary

Burt L. Standish Frank Merriwell's Endurance; or…

With the exception of Merry, the whole team seemed growling and snarling all at once.
Underneath it all, however, Frank saw the real true spirit that longs for victory. They were not really malicious, but each man was to do his level best and to have every other man do the same.
“We lost the game, fellows, and it’s no use to kick,” said Merry. “I think every man did his best. I know I did. It was poor enough. We’ll have to swallow defeat and go out for the next game we play.”
“It would be different if we could get another crack at these fellows,” muttered Ready, all his usual flippancy gone.
Source: Gutenberg

Burt L. Standish Frank Merriwell's Endurance; or…

He did not catch it, and Elkton had won the game.
As soon as Joe could stop he looked after the ball a moment and then turned to walk in, refusing to chase and recover it.
Roar after roar came from the stand and the bleachers. The crowd was wild with delight. It was the sort of finish to fill them with unutterable joy. They waved their hats, hands, and handkerchiefs in the air. Men howled hoarsely; women added a shriller note to the volume of sound.
For the moment Sparks was the hero; but Wolfers was not forgotten.
Source: Gutenberg

Burt L. Standish Frank Merriwell's Endurance; or…

Bart’s eyes shone and his dark, handsome face wore an expression of great satisfaction.
“You may be rusty, Merry,” he observed; “but I fail to see it. I swear you fenced better to-day than ever before in all your life.”
“You think so, Bart; but I can’t believe that. A man can’t be at his best at fencing, any more than at billiards, unless he is in constant practice.”
“Oh, I know I’ve gone back; but you have not. I’ll wager my life you can give Fred Darleton all he is looking for.”
“It would be a pleasure to me,” confessed Frank.
Source: Gutenberg

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature